The Pharaoh's princess

After the trip

Renee – POV

I woke up first and realized with horror that my head was resting on Idris’s shoulder. I quickly straightened up before he could notice. As I tried to play it cool, my thoughts swirled. Those eyes—the eyes of that guard from my dream. I’d seen them before. Familiar. Intense. I glanced at Idris.

His eyes were so similar.

No. That couldn’t be. Could it?

I couldn’t just come out and ask him. What would I even say? ‘Hey, did you work as a royal guard in a dream?’ Yeah. That’d go over well.

Idris – POV

I’d woken up before her but kept still. She looked peaceful resting on my shoulder, and I wasn’t about to ruin the moment. When she stirred, I feigned sleep. A few seconds passed. She sat up quickly, and I peeked through the smallest slit in my eyes.

She was staring at me like I had two heads—or like she was trying to solve a puzzle. My heart thudded. Did she know? Did she remember the dreams too?

Maybe I could use this school project to find out. Slowly, I stretched and faked a sleepy yawn.

“Did you find anything cool at the museum?” I asked casually.

She pulled out the mirror. The back had the crown of Hathor. The etching shimmered in the light streaming through the bus windows.

“It’s beautiful,” I said. And it was. Mesmerizing, even. I regretted skipping the gift shop. Maybe I could’ve found something with meaning too.

I showed her some pictures on my phone—the weapons display, the lapis necklace, then the relics listed under Rahotep’s name.

“Whose were those?” she asked, barely glancing at the label.

“Rahotep,” I said.

That caught her off guard. It was subtle, but I saw it. Her reaction was small—but real. She knew. Or at least, part of her did.

The bus turned into the school lot. I found myself wishing we had a little more time.

Renee – POV

The bus hissed to a stop in front of the school. Streetlights flickered above us, casting long shadows. I gathered my things slowly. Part of me didn’t want to go.

Idris had a calming energy, and I’d felt… at ease around him. But I couldn’t let myself forget. Trust wasn’t something I gave easily. I had to be sure. I wasn’t going to end up like my mother.

Annavi and Jacob joined me. My mom was already parked nearby, waving from the SUV. Elena peeked out the backseat window, bouncing in excitement.

I thought about asking Idris if he needed a ride, but Tyrese had already flagged him down. He was heading to his dad’s van. I watched until they disappeared into the night.

Inside the car, Elena bombarded us with questions. Annavi and Jacob eagerly shared stories and showed off photos. I pulled out the mirror. Elena made a face.

“It’s pretty,” I said.

“It needs glitter,” she sniffed.

Typical.

We dropped Jacob off first. Annavi was staying over—again. Her mom had jetted off to Vegetin City with her ‘golden child.’ My mom, ever the hero, offered to take Annavi in while she was gone.

Honestly, she was more like a sister than a friend.

We changed into pajamas, mumbled goodnights, and collapsed in my bed. Too tired to talk. The weekend stretched ahead of us.

But for now, sleep.

Idris – POV

Tyrese and I were laughing before we even got in the van. His dad was cool—like, really cool. He had this laid-back, joking kind of energy that reminded me of how things used to be with my own dad.

We talked about football, school drama, and then Tyrese grinned at me.

“So, you like anyone?”

I hesitated.

“Renee.”

He laughed. “Bro. That’s mission impossible. Good luck with that.”

He didn’t mean it meanly—it was just common knowledge. Renee didn’t date. At least not anymore. After what happened with her ex…

He shook his head. “I like her bestie, but she’s all about Jacob. Lucky dude.”

I nodded, only half-listening.

When we pulled up to my place, I thanked them and waved goodbye.

Inside, my dad was passed out on the couch, remote dangling from one hand. My mom was still up and smiled when I walked in.

“You’re back. Good. I saved you dinner.”

She kissed my forehead, then disappeared into her room.

I sat in the kitchen, scarfing down the food. My mom’s cooking always hit the spot.

That’s when I heard it—buzzing.

Dad’s phone.

He answered it with a lazy grin. “Hey, beautiful.”

My stomach dropped.

I peeked into the living room just as he threw on a shirt and slipped out the door.

I crouched in the hallway, pulse pounding. Was he cheating on Mom?

A flicker of a memory—late nights, raised voices, my mom crying in the kitchen—stabbed at my chest.

I didn’t want to believe it. Not again. Not after everything.

But I was too tired to chase after him tonight.

I trudged to my room, the weight of it all settling on my shoulders.

Sleep first.

Then tomorrow—I’d deal with the truth.